


the other kind of fun

by determination



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, but oh well :D, i dont know if garlemald has beaches but for the sake of this fic they do, i doubt the vacation part, mentions of cid's dad, or summer for that matter, or vacations, teen!cidnero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25576705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/determination/pseuds/determination
Summary: At Nero's recommendation, they go to the beach. He wants Cid to have fun - and no, work does not count as fun, no matter what Cid might think.written for Cidnero week day 2. Prompts: enthusiastic, reluctant.
Relationships: Cid nan Garlond/Nero tol Scaeva
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26
Collections: Cidnero Week 2020





	the other kind of fun

With the sun beating down on him, nary a cloud in the sky, a pleasant breeze rustling through, and the muffled chatter of the mildly busy beach, Cid finds himself thinking this rather does feel like what one might deem a “typical summer vacation.”

He’s not really sure how he let Nero convince him to take a break. With school out for the month, Cid had been more than content to work on his designs and help his father in his spare time. And yet Nero had come along to pester him, as is his wont. Not even summer break would stop him from finding new and innovative ways to mess with Cid. 

Though, to be fair, this time he’s not sure Nero had been messing with him. It certainly felt like it when he first brought up the idea: the two of them making the somewhat lengthy trip to Garlemald’s nearest beach. 

Cid would have dismissed the concept outright had Nero given him any chance to object; but alas, Nero would not let him get a word in. He went on about the necessity of unwinding and relaxation, and argued that Cid couldn’t hope to keep his concentration and motivation at peak levels without also taking the time to have fun. Cid would counter that his work _is_ fun, but he supposes Nero means a different kind of fun. The type of fun most people would use to describe things that… aren’t work.

The deciding factor had been his father’s support for the trip. He’d encouraged Cid to get out and enjoy the pleasant summer weather. Although, Cid wouldn’t consider summer weather pleasant, really - he’d much prefer to stay out of the heat.

Still. Something can be said for the specific sort of atmosphere found in the specific circumstances of sitting on the beach, listening to the sounds of waves and muted conversations, and feeling rather glad that sunscreen exists because otherwise Cid is certain he’d be leaving with a rather serious case of sunburn. Unfortunately, he doesn’t doubt that he’ll tan, even with the protection.

“Oi, Garlond, give me a hand, will you?” Nero’s voice draws Cid’s attention. He glances over to find Nero holding out an open bottle of sunscreen. Cid blinks at it. “C’mon, I can’t reach my back.”

Cid can’t help snorting. “Not even with those noodle arms?” Nero shoots him a withering look, which he ignores. “Actually asking me for help, huh?” He accepts the bottle and squirts some onto his hands before reaching out and spreading the substance across Nero’s back. Nero stiffens with the touch, and Cid does his best to ignore the marked softness of his skin. 

“Can it,” Nero retorts with a huff. “I was going to return the favor by getting yours.”

“No point,” Cid shakes his head, “I’m not taking my shirt off.” 

At that, Nero makes a face. “Shame,” he grumbles. 

“What was that?” One of Cid’s brows raises. 

Nero stiffens again and pointedly avoids his gaze, waving a hand dismissively. “Nothing, nothing.”

Adequately protected from the harsh sun, they venture to the water’s edge. Cid lets the waves wash over his feet, the cool water a refreshing change from the hot sand. He wades further in, until the water reaches his knees, then his thighs, then his waist. 

Glancing back, he finds Nero hadn’t followed. “What’s the matter? Can’t swim?”

Nero gives him a look. “I would have thought you wouldn’t be able to, seeing as you’re such a workaholic. But I guess it’d make sense a blue-blooded brat like you would’ve gotten lessons.”

“My ability to swim has nothing to do with my family,” Cid frowns. “Rather, you blatantly avoided the question.”

Nero motions vaguely with one hand. “I _can_ swim, since you so desperately want to know. I just don’t want to go too deep in the water, that’s all. I put a lot of work into my appearance and I’d rather not spoil it.”

That has Cid grinning cheekily. “You come to the beach but won’t swim… because you don’t want to mess up your hair?”

“Oi,” Nero gestures threateningly with a pointer finger, “Not all of us were gifted with flawless presentation regardless of what we do. It’s not my fault that it takes time to look this good.”

“Do I want to know how much time?” Cid teasingly winces. Nero rolls his eyes. “C’mon, it’s not like I don’t put any effort into my appearance, either. But we’re at the beach! It’d be a complete waste not to enjoy… well, the beach.”

“I guess,” Nero concedes. With a sigh, he adds under his breath, “but we all know you’ll come out of the water looking effortlessly handsome while I’ll look like a drowned rat.”

Cid’s cheeks grow rather warm. He doesn’t think he was meant to hear that bit. Should he pretend he didn’t? “Uh, what?” he says.

“What?” Nero echoes, feigning ignorance. His cheeks are somewhat flushed, as well.

“Nevermind,” Cid shakes his head. Maybe he heard him wrong. He must have. 

With a little more coaxing, Nero does take a few hesitant steps into deeper water. Enough that Cid gets a mischievous idea. He probably shouldn’t, all things considered; it’d just be begging for Nero to turn it back on him and then they wouldn’t have any peace for the rest of their well-intentioned trip. Still, the more he thinks about it, the stronger the urge grows, until he can’t resist any longer.

With as much strength as he can muster, he sends a cascading wave of a splash toward Nero. In a matter of seconds, Nero is soaked. He blinks water out of his eyes, expression one of bewilderment, before he turns a fierce glare toward Cid, who grins sheepishly. “Really, Garlond?” Nero scowls. “Childish, aren’t we.”

For a moment, Cid worries that maybe he had gone a little too far. That is, until Nero strides forward and, with a flourishing gesture, splashes Cid right in the face. “Two can play at that game.”

It rather does become a game. But Cid doesn’t think he minds. There’s something fun about the pointlessness of it. Just tussling in the water, seeing who can get the most splashes on the other. Maybe it is something that children would do. But neither of them really had a typical childhood, so he doesn’t think it’s that bad to indulge.

Nero tires out sooner than he does, though he tries not to let it show. Being the one who started this, Cid has the good grace to wave the white flag of surrender. Nero gloats while they return to their spot on the sand to towel themselves dry. “For the record, I win.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Cid rolls his eyes, but when he looks over at Nero, he has to do a double take. Having dried his hair, Nero’s blond locks lie messily across his forehead, his hair actually somewhat wavy now that it isn’t slicked back. He looks so starkly different that Cid can’t help gaping. Despite himself, he has to admit the look is quite attractive.

“You should wear your hair down more often,” he says, awed.

Nero scowls again. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not,” Cid retorts with a frown, though it’s futile to argue with Nero when his mind is made up. Sighing, Cid gives up and shakes his head. 

He can’t help wondering if Nero had actually taken his words to heart because he leaves his hair the way it is (or maybe he’s just lazy, who knows). The downside being it’s at least a little distracting. Cid catches himself thinking more than once that Nero looks… good. And that’s not exactly a thought he wants to have about Nero.

They take a break to eat a (very) late lunch. Lunch also gives way to ice cream, which Cid reluctantly lets Nero convince him to purchase (in the largest size available). He’s so full by the time he finishes it that all he can do is lie on his back and regret his life choices. He thinks he may not be able to move for the rest of their time there. 

And he probably wouldn’t have, if Nero didn’t, some time later, suggest climbing the sand dunes. “Seriously?” Cid gives him an incredulous look. “You really have the energy to think about climbing after how much we ate?”

“We’re past the digestive stage, Garlond, come on,” Nero snickers, waving a dismissive hand in characteristic fashion. “Besides, I’m positive I can get to the top faster than you.”

Cid sighs. He resists the urge to roll his eyes only by covering his face with one hand. “Remind me again who the childish one is.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Nero pokes his shoulder with an insistent finger. “A little competition is healthy!”

“Is it now.” Cid sighs again. 

He doesn’t really feel like arguing on this one. Nero certainly won’t drop it, he knows that for sure. At least the view at the top will make the climb worth it. That, and, with how Nero has been quickly tiring himself out, he thinks he has a fair shot at actually outpacing him. 

“Fine,” he says, sitting up. “But that’s the last thing we’re doing. It’s getting late and I’d rather be home before the sun sets, thank you.”

“Deal,” Nero grins.

And so they set off in the direction of the dunes. The towering hills of golden sand are rather intimidating the closer one gets - and it’s not necessarily the size, but the slope. Though, eyeballing the angle, and hypothesizing the appropriate velocity to maintain motion without overexertion… Yes, it definitely would be possible, provided he took a brief break halfway.

“Ready?” Nero asks, eyes narrowed with playful determination. Cid shrugs and rolls his eyes. “Go!”

For once, Cid finds himself grateful for his inherently muscular build. On top of that, he’s further appreciative of how in shape his work keeps him. He manages to find a steady pace that doesn’t burn too much (the burn is to be expected, considering the amount of stress the slope puts on his legs). 

Nero, on the other hand, had taken a different approach. Perhaps he’d forgone calculations and hoped that speed alone would suffice. Cid must admit, it’s rather comical to watch him blast his way halfway up the hill, only to collapse with his knees and elbows buried in the sand to prop him up.

He doesn’t move an inch, not even as Cid reaches him. 

“Not a very efficient method, was it,” Cid can’t help gloating a bit, pausing his trek with his hands on his hips.

Nero tilts his head to ensure that Cid can see his scowl. “Whatever. If this was the first thing we did, I’d have definitely made it to the top already,” he grumbles. He makes no move to get up though, seeming to have openly accepted his defeat. 

Observing for a few seconds, an idea occurs to Cid. It’s somewhat better than the splashing-Nero one, though he imagines Nero still won’t take kindly to it. It’d beat having to deal with Nero’s complaints when they inevitably have to give up the climb because Nero wasted all of his energy sprinting. 

So, making an easy decision, he reaches out and, with little effort, hoists Nero over his shoulder like a sack of popotos. Predictably, Nero’s protests are instantaneous.

“Oi, put me down! The hells are you doing?!” Nero demands, flailing his limbs in a failed attempt to dislodge himself from Cid’s grasp. “ _Oi_!”

Cid rolls his eyes (he does that a lot when it comes to Nero). “You wanted to get to the top, so that’s where we’re going. Unless you’d prefer to stay here and get sand up your trunks.”

Nero huffs, but his struggling subsides. He simply sulks while Cid continues to climb with measured steps. 

To their mutual relief, they reach the top rather quickly. Cid plants Nero on the ground and plops down next to him, glad for the opportunity to rest his weary limbs and get his breath back. And, as he’s expected, the view is lovely. The water’s edge looks so distant atop the dunes, and he can see far out across the water, as well. The clouds have decided to arrive in puffy pinks and oranges as the sun begins to sink lower in the sky. Cid stares out at the picturesque scenery and sends a silent thought of gratitude to his father for convincing him to go.

“... Thanks for coming with me today,” Nero mutters, and for a split second, Cid stupidly wonders if he can read minds. 

“Huh?” he says, blushing a bit.

Nero frowns exaggeratedly at him. “Don’t make me repeat myself. I said what I said.”

Cid glances from the clouds to Nero, who also appears to be somewhat red-faced (to be fair, it might be sunburn). The sentiment had been genuine enough that he feels a little guilty now about his reluctance. “... I had fun, for what it’s worth,” he says. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Nero grunts but doesn’t say anything else. Cid finds comfort in that. He likes when they can simply be in one another’s company without bickering. 

After some time, they both get up and make the notably shorter trip back down the dunes. They’re quiet on the airship ride home, as well. When Nero’s head touches Cid’s shoulder, he finds he doesn’t have it in him to object. The weight is pleasant.


End file.
